Calling it a manor is probably a little extreme, as far as housing goes in this city. Still, the place's name is indicative of the spirit of its inhabitants: they refuse to surrender their dignity, to the point that the pretense seems a little embarrassing.

"You'd have to ask Eisele. She inherited everything related to magic." Nalima looks away for a second. It was true; magical ability had been split between Noel and Eisele. Since Noel's passing, the rest of the magical belongings had passed on to Eisele.

---

Rexley nods and calls for Tobias. Within a short time, Valentine's room is ready, and Rexley shows her there. "I hope you sleep well, Lady Gatsby."

"I know some basic offensive spells, mostly related to fire. Eisele studies enchantment and healing and things of that nature. Noel... was a master at curses and darker magic. Last I heard he was dabbling in necromancy, but that was a few years ago... It's only Rexley who never bothered with magic. I don't know that he lacks the talent, though, just that he was raised in his father's ideals of being a knight," Nalima explains.

"Hm, yes..." She has a knowing look in her eyes, which drowns out the fierce steel that usually lies behind her stare. "A very dangerous man, you are. And so young. You have a lot ahead of you. I suggest you make the right decisions. A wrong move in the games we play, and... well, my late brother thought he knew what he was getting into. And in the end... Well, he got a lot of people into a lot of trouble."

She pats her wyvern on the neck delicately, looking anything but delicate. "I suppose it's time for me to come out of retirement. I picked up the axe... oh, it must have been sixty years ago. My, how time flies." She stretches, her formidable stature barely visible in the dark. Her body is at rest, but tensed.

"You seem like a woman of many layers, Nalima Croix. But then again," he grins "most nobles are. You seem rather dangerous yourself, if I'm frank. Your entire family seems... Dangerous. Hell, this entire rotting city."

_________________"Don’t do what you can’t undo, until you’ve considered what you can’t do once you’ve done it.”

Nalima smiles wryly. "There's danger everywhere. But the kind involving money, and butlers assassinating their masters, and spies and bribery and court games... that never was my kind of danger. In fact, I'm thinking about mercenary work."

"Oh? I dabbled in that when business got slow. It's nice when it goes well, but the conditions aren't always favourable, and neither are the folk. But at least they'll stab you in the front." He smiles again, not quite as bitter, "or try to, anyway."

_________________"Don’t do what you can’t undo, until you’ve considered what you can’t do once you’ve done it.”

Nalima swallows. Her eyes dart between the two of them. She doesn't know either of them well enough to pick a side. "It would be appreciated if neither of you killed the other on my property," she finally decides. "Come now, the gate isn't far. Take it to an alleyway like civil folk?"

Her voice becomes steel. "...You can't mean... No. I shall not allow it." She picks up her axe she was sharpening, and it glints silver in the moonlight. She slices through the chains on her wyvern, and it flies up into the air and away at her command. Nalima then turns to face Elene, fire burning in her eyes.